Silver Screens
by trekker4life
Summary: I wish that we could lose this crowd; maybe it's better this way; we'd hurt each other with the things we want to say. We could have been so good together, we could have lived this dance forever...


_**Disclaimer:**_** I own no part of the **_**Harry Potter**_** series, by JK Rowling.**

**Hi everyone. This is just a short piece inspired by a couple of songs. Written in about an hour, so I hope you enjoy.**

_**~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~**_

He didn't want to be here. This _celebration _was the last thing he wanted today. Six months after Voldemort's defeat, the Ministry, in all it's infinite wisdom, decided to mark the occasion with an extravagant ball.

Harry, dressed in a set of black dress robes, stood near the wall in the largest room he had ever seen. Larger even than the Great Hall of Hogwarts, this ballroom was filled with glittering lights, fine fabrics, and sparkling jewels. Any one of importance had been invited, including all of the Hogwarts Defenders, and, of course, the Man-Who-Conquered.

But he didn't want to be here. This world, this glistening, fake world, was not what he fought for. Not what _they_ fought for. Spying a tall redhead accompanied by a shorter brunette, he made his way over to them.

Ron and Hermione had continued where they left off during the final battle and, with the exception of a few rough patches, gave every appearance of being a loving couple. Harry hadn't been so lucky with Ginny. After the battle, he had tried to work it out with the youngest Weasley, but things had changed. _He_ had changed. Despite everything, Ginny still saw him as the Boy-Who-Lived, not as himself. A fangirl was not what he needed. Or wanted.

When he reached his friends, Harry asked Hermione for a dance. With a quick glance at Ron, she agreed, accepting his outstretched hand. They reached the center of the dance floor just as the current song finished. Another followed it, a sultry tune full of saxophone, but it faded to the background as Harry began to move them across the dance floor.

Hermione looked gorgeous, as she always did in dress robes, but memories of a cold night, flannel shirts, and a static-filled wireless came to mind instead. He was happy for her and Ron, or, at least, that's what he told himself. But...he did have one regret. He feared that by letting her turn away that night, he had cheated both of them out of something that could have been wonderful.

As they spun and twirled, he came to a decision. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear. "I'm leaving." She stared, uncomprehending. "Okay. We'll see you tomorrow at the Burrow, then." He shook his head. "No. I'm _leaving_. Tonight." Understanding dawned on her face and fast morphed into worry. "What?! Why? Where are you going?"

He held her tight as he explained the best he could. "I don't know. Away from here, London, maybe even England...come with me?" She looked startled as Harry spun them again, moving in time to the music.

"I'm tired, Hermione. I fought – we fought – for so long, for a world that, let's face it, I barely know. And the more I find out, the less I like it. I mean, it's been only months since this world was nearly destroyed. And instead of focusing their time, money, and interests on rebuilding, what does the Ministry do? Throw this 'party' and pretend nothing's changed."

She gazed at him, concern etched on her features; she barely had time to say his name before he continued. "So, like I said, I'm tired. I don't want to fight anymore. I'm going to leave the Magical World – for a while, at least. And I was hoping you'd come with me."

Hermione glanced over his shoulder – looking to Ron, he knew. "Harry...I..." But he could see it in her eyes. She wasn't going to come. He spoke again.

"It's alright. I had my chance and I screwed it up, I know. And I'm sorry. Just do me a favor? Be happy. One of us should, at least."

And with that, he leaned in and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. Then he was gone, leaving her standing in the middle of the dance floor. Lifting a hand to touch her fingers to her lips, she watched as he walked away from the ball, from magic...from her.

Tears began to rise as she left the floor as well, but by the time she reached Ron, her smile was back in place. She slipped her hand in his and reminded herself that this was not the time for tears. That would come later, when she was alone.

Harry stopped at the entrance to the ballroom and looked back. Seeing Hermione back in Ron's arms, he whispered a single word before turning and leaving that world behind.

"Good-bye."

_**~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~HP~HG~**_

**So...what do you think? I'm a die-hard Harmony shipper, but a little bit of Romione was a necessary evil in this case. If you're wondering, the two songs I chose were **_**Careless Whisper**_**, by George Michael (though I prefer the Seether cover), and **_**Dance with the Devil**_**, by Breaking Benjamin.**

**Hope you enjoyed and please R&R!**

**Trekker**


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